#wrentalks

The sweetest scent of summer's breeze

Whispers tales of June's soft nights,

Beneath the canopy of ancient trees,

Bathed in the moon's ethereal lights.

Oh, youthful hearts, untamed and free,

We owned the twilight, bold and bright.

Your gentle words, a melody,

Your radiant smile, a guiding light.

Sun-kissed skin and fingers intertwined,

You held me close, a sacred art.

Our love, a private heatwave, intertwined,

Ignited deep within each heart.

As dawn's first blush, a tender hue,

Dispelled the shadows where we lay,

Your hand in mine, so strong and true,

You'd lead me home, to dream of day,

And with a lingering, softest kiss,

We'd bid farewell, till stars anew.

Prompt for 'heatwaves'

@picklemafia

Damn... that heat is robbing me of my sanity.

In the middle of the night, at two twenty,

I woke up like I just ran a hundred meters.

No air conditioner — just hoping this loyal, old, rattling fan would actually shriek alive until tomorrow at least.

I couldn’t even exasperate, as the heatwave condensed sweat on my temples.

Another day... another problem.

The southwest monsoon visited the land unannounced,

laughing in my face when they saw me holding an umbrella.

“What a cute little girl,” they said.

I wasn’t expecting rain — I was shielding myself from the scorching, merciless sun.

The winds blew away the clouds as if giving the majestic star a spotlight to shine.

But those tone-deaf fools don’t realize that most people are cooking under a first-degree sunburn,

like unplanned roasted chickens.

How do glamorous people look so cool in summer?

I feel like I’m trapped in a microwave inside my own room.

They’re out there shooting videos with sexy sweat,

and here I am — like a witch, emitting droplets from every part of my body.

This isn’t a heatwave...

This is torture.

Torture for a sinner like me who complained too much last December

about how I hated the cold.

oh goodness....

My curiosity. I am rarely bored because I'm someone who wants to know everything.

My sense of humor. With some noteable exceptions I tend to be able to laugh at most situations.

My ability to be able to look stupid. If I mess up I admit it and make a joke about it.

My compassion— I do my best to try to show kindness to all living creatures.

My willingness to try new things.

I can't keep up with the pace of this world, and so I don't.

I'm watching a show that was big five years ago.

When I walk, I stop by to greet my favorite trees; I look at the moon, I follow butterflies and stray cats; I pick up dead leaves, or wild flowers. People give me a weird look. I do the same. How can't you ignore this beauty? Yes, especially when your life is crumbling down. A dead leaf sometimes saved mine.

I cook my own food, I read my books - it takes time.

Meanwhile, there's a whole life happening on the streets, in other places; everybody is running somewehere - I feel so out of rhythm, out of place, lost a couple of chapters ago.

I am slow. I can't be anything else - I tried.

No, they didn't. They received love, loyalty, and a level of energy most people will never experience in their lifetime. I showed up with honesty. I cared with my whole heart. I was genuine. And just because someone didn't know how to value that, it doesn't mean I regret giving it. The problem isn't being real, the problem is handing your heart to people who weren't prepared to receive it.

They walked away with something rare. I walk away with wisdon, self-respect, and a deeper understanding of my worth. I don't run out. I evolve. I refill. I grow. And every time, I become a stronger and softer version of myself.

So, if someone believed they "used me", that's fine. They can keep whatever version of me they thought they benefitted from. That chapter will never repeat itself.