thelostprince

United States of America

Howdy, y'all.
Someday, I'll finish one of my 1, 554 novel WIPs.
Shakespeare nerd
Movie OST Connoisseur
World's Best Dad (TM)
"I think I know what I'm doing, but I'm not quite sure."

Message from Writer

Take a look at my work, if you want. I have some angst-y serious stuff, and I also have some very weird random stuff that you probably won't understand. Feedback is always greatly
appreciated. Constructive criticism is best, but if you don't have that, that's fine too.
Tips and Tricks for WTW: https://bit.ly/346L7BB (Piece by Dmoral13).

Published Work

a e s t h e t i c

it's 5 am. 
my clock says so in bold, red, numbers. 
i have pink diamonds all up on my wrist 
lips poppin' with the clear gloss 
fairy lights on
and curtains half-drawn 
the words  "sucker for love" tattooed on my arm in the baddie font  
crappy music i've never heard pumping in my ears at full volume 
my eyeliner smeared across my face 
my scissors and clumps of my hair lay scattered on my floor  
everything's all a blur 
damn
he still hasn't texted me back
i'm too young to have this much heartbreak
my friend's coming over with her hydroflask 
she'll comfort me with her scrunchies 
and her "and I oop."'s and "sksksk."'s    
we'll save the turtles together 
but until then
i'll just sit 
crying my aesthetic tears 


 

Roads

"Okay. Hold up. 
Get ready for a little analogy.
I know you didn't ask for it, 
but I just thought of it, 
and it sounds pretty good to me. 
It also happens to apply to your situation. 
Okay. 
So you know those crosswalks where there isn't a walk signal?
Right? 
And there's no one else standing next to you, helping you decide when to start walking over. 
You alone have to guess when you walk to the other side without getting hit.
And sometimes it's real tricky. 
It could be rush hour, and people forget how to drive.
That definitely complicates it.     
You take a step forward, decide it's too dangerous, and step back.
You do this a few times.
But then you see a chance to cross.
And so you do. 
You get over to the other side.  
Moral of the story?
Literally and figuratively, some roads you have to cross all on your own, even if it's uncertain,...

#Q&AContest

1. If you had to direct a music video for a song, which song would it be? 
2. What is the best insult or comeback you've ever heard? 
3. If you had to have a tail, but it could be from any animal, what would it be and what would it look like? 
4. What are your favorite traits in a villain/antagonist? 
5. What's the best name you've created for a character?
6. In your opinion, what is the most powerful emotion and why?
7. In your opinion, is social media harmful to society or not? Why? 
8. It's 3 am and you're really hungry. If you had to get food from a restaurant, where would it be? What kind of food would you get? 
9. What are your favorite things to put in a burrito? 
10. What is your favorite kind of lighting? Does it depend on your mood? 
11. What is a very underrated song, in your opinion?  ...

#colors

Blue.

Ocean. 
Sadness.
Floating.
Sky.
Denim. 
Lightness.

My feet sink into the fine sand. 
The gentle breeze tickles my skin. 
My clothes feel light and airy, bouncing with the wind. 
The smile on my face grows larger.
"C'mon, honey, it's dinnertime!" my mother calls in the distance. 
"Give me a minute!" I holler back. 
I close my eyes.
One. 
Two. 
Three seconds.
The waves are calling my name. 
I'll make it short this time. 
Four.
Five.
Six seconds.
I start walking towards the sea.
A gull coos beside me. 
Seven. 
Eight. 
Nine. 
Ten.
I open my eyes.
A bright spark possesses me. 
I dash right along the wet sand, the little waves occasionally colliding with my feet.    
The laugh I've been holding bursts free. 
"Haley!" my mother yells. 
I skid to a dead halt. 
"Get your tush over here. Do you want your dinner to get cold?"
"Coming." I groan, but not completely wistfully.
I'll be back again soon. 


Red.
...

Haircut Day

"No! Mamaaa! I don't want to go!" the little girl screamed, trying to pull away from her mother's tight grip. "Let me grow it out a little longer." 
The Mom let out her 10th sigh of the hour. "Your grown out your hair long enough. It's starting to get mud and other nasty things in it. We have to get it cut."
"But Momma." the girl sobbed, "It's gonna hurt." 
"I know it will. It hurts for me too." 
"Can we please do it tomorrow? Just this once?"
"Then it'll never get done. We have to go now."
"I don't wanna go." the girl repeated again. 
"The barber's going to give you lots of numbing cream."
"Well, he doesn't know what it's like! He's bald!"
"Sweetie, I can guarantee that he had hair once. Besides, he's a trained professional. He knows what he's doing." the mother turned towards the door. "Now let's go."
"No!"
The mother turned back to...

Music For Writing?

Hey y'all, it's me (again). 

So I'm sure a good number of you listen to music while you write. It helps us get in the mood or mode of writing, it can help inspire us, or it can help us focus. Everyone has a different taste when it comes to music for writing. For me, I can't listen to any songs that have lyrics in it, except for choral music. The best music for me is either choral music (Which most of them just happen to be religious, even though I'm not religious at all) or movie soundtracks. I prefer to listen to music with a minor key, even when I'm writing light-hearted stuff. 
Here are some of my favorites: 

"Miserere Mei, Deus" by Gregorio Allegri
"Agnus Dei" by Samuel Barber
"Evenstar" by Howard Shore 
Any "Music of Forgotten Temples/Cathedrals" mix 
The "Destiny" soundtrack (video game) 
The "Joker" movie soundtrack

What music do y'all like to listen to? I'd love...

a e s t h e t i c

it's 5 am. 
my clock says so in bold, red, numbers. 
i have pink diamonds all up on my wrist 
lips poppin' with the clear gloss 
fairy lights on
music i've never heard pumping in my ears 
everything's all a blur 
damn
he still hasn't texted me back
i'm too young to have this much heartbreak
my friend's coming over with her hydroflask 
she'll comfort me with her scrunchies 
but until then
i'll just sit 
crying my aesthetic tears 


 

#GOrwell contest 2

The streets were covered with shards of burnt glass. 
The cathedral flaked away in the midst of the fire. 
"Please!" My mother fell to her knees, wailing. "Somebody, help!" 
"Mother, we have to go! Now!" I tried to pull her up, but she remained firmly fastened to the ground. "Momma, we can't be here!" my eyes watered as they were penetrated by the smoke. 
My rage already is threatening to blur my vision. I can't let anything else attempt to do so as well. 
I wish I could say that this was all an accident. Purely a stroke of bad luck. 
But that is a phrase of great luxury in these times. 
"Momma-" 
A metal-toed boot rams into my side.
I fall to the ground, clutching my ribs. 
A rough hand grabs the collar of my jacket, dragging me from my mother.
"No!" I try to break away in vain.     
I look up to see a foreign-looking soldier glaring...

POWER.

Well, here we are. 
The gods of America. 
We're young, screwed up, filthy stinking rich, gorgeous, and dumb. 
Nobody can stop us. 
Nobody can tell us what to do.
Bright lights,
Crisp champagne,
Fresh clothes, 
Loose morals, 
All of the control,
None of the care.
It all tends my throne.
It's a never-ending rush of ecstasy, 
I take it in the morning with my orange juice.
My wants being satisfied is the need of everyone around me. 

I can't get enough of it.
Who gives a damn If it kills me? 
Rips apart every relationship I have?
Turns me into the monster I never wanted to become? 
I'm living for myself, for the now.   
The more I rise, The more money I'll have to cushion the fall. 
Whatever old fool who said that money can't solve your problems 
never had the money to simply party it all away... 
  
I wonder what my father would say if he saw me...

Black and White? #deepthought

Good and Bad.  
Evil and Virtuous.
Saints and Sinners.
Two contrasting, bipolar, states of the human condition.   
You're either one or the other. And hopefully, you are what human society deems "good". 
But what really is good and evil? 
As humans, it is in our very nature to try to sort other humans into one of the streams. And sometimes, as humans, we lose. Our. Darn. Minds, trying to figure out who's truly good and truly evil. Sure, this one historical figure fought for their rights, but also fought for taking away the rights of others. Yeah, this one person steals from stores often, but they also help out their neighbor next door, who's a single mom and can hardly afford her bills.
We also tend to take more interest in anti-hero or anti-villain characters in books, movies, and other forms of media.  
Ideas of good and evil also pertain to an individual person, affected by their life and what...

Good Livin'

The whole gang sat lazily in different parts of the living room. We all thought that tonight was going to be a normal Saturday night, except for the fact that Jeremy hadn't come home yet. 
Actually, no. A Saturday night without Jeremy wasn't normal. A Saturday night without any one of the boys wasn't normal.
But we knew that Jeremy would come home at some point, whether it was going to be in five minutes or a couple of hours. So we all sat impatiently, without showing it too obviously to the other boys. It would mess up the whole vibe. The minutes ticked by in silence. Finally, Chance decided that he had enough of waiting silently.
"Hey, guys. Where's Jeremy? We've been waiting for an hour and haven't heard a peep from him." 
"He'll be here soon." I answered him. "I know it." 
"Let's hope so." 
A few more minutes passed before we heard a flurry of door bell...

A Hollow Crown

There.
I have done it. 
Have I not? 

Do not make me go back again. 
Please. 
I am afraid to think of what I have done. 

The bell calls us back. 
Please, let us steal away. 
They will find us. 
Please, let us wash our hands of this deed.
Let us rub this sight from our eyes.  
Erase all remembrances of this damned act from the air, the walls, the rooms. 

We may be safe for now.
But untrusting eyes gaze in our way. 
   
Here I am. 
Here I sit on the throne.
Yet this crown sits not firmly upon my brow as it should.          
A hollow crown,
A hollowed throne, 
A hollow scepter sitting in hallow hands,
Hollow robes,
A hollowed court of hallowed souls,
A hollow country,
All fit enough to serve a hallowed king. 

Will no amount of water wash the blood from my hands?
Is there no cushion thick enough...

A Hollow Crown

There.
I have done it. 
Have I not? 

Do not make me go back again. 
Please. 
I am afraid to think of what I have done. 

The bell calls us back. 
Please, let us steal away. 
They will find us. 
Please, let us wash our hands of this deed.
Let us rub this sight from our eyes.  
Erase all remembrances of this damned act from the air, the walls, the rooms. 

We may be safe for now.
But untrusting eyes gaze in our way. 
   
Here I am. 
Here I sit on the throne.
Yet this crown sits not firmly upon my brow as it should.          
A hallow crown,
A hallowed throne, 
A hallow scepter sitting in hallow hands,
Hallow robes,
A hallowed court of hallowed souls,
A hallow country,
All fit enough to serve a hallowed king. 

Will no amount of water wash the blood from my hands?
Is there no cushion thick enough...

Vice

Some days
I wake up in the morning
Full of energy and life 
The songbirds chirping in the background 
Not a cloud in the sky
and I think
"Ah, what vices shall I commit today?" 

A Hollow Crown

There.
I have done it. 
Have I not? 

Don't make me go back again. 
Please. 
I am afraid to think of what I have done. 

The bell calls us back. 
Please, let us steal away. 
They will find us. 
Please, let us wash our hands of this deed.
Let us rub this sight from our eyes.  
Erase all remembrances of this damned act from the air, the walls, the rooms. 

We may be safe for now.
But untrusting eyes gaze in our way. 
   
Here I am. 
Here I sit on the throne.
Yet this crown sits not firmly upon my brow as it should.          
A hallow crown,
A hallowed throne, 
A hallow scepter sitting in hallow hands,
Hallow robes,
A hallowed court of hallowed souls,
A hallow country,
All fit enough to serve a hallowed king. 

Will no amount of water wash the blood from my hands?
Is there no cushion thick enough to...

10 Followers!

So I just realized that I have 10 followers right now! 
Yee yee! I didn't think I would get to this point at all, but here I am! 
I'm not trying to brag or anything, I promise. However large your following is, I hope that you acquire more because YOU DESERVE IT. All of us on this website work our butts off to improve our writing and get noticed by more people. 
I hope you're having a nice day. 
Cheers.    
 

A Quick Question

Re-posting so more people can see it- 

Hey y'all, me here. 

I have a question for all of you on this website. It might not make sense, but oh well.

Do your characters ever talk to you? 

Like, do your characters do more in your head than just be in scenes in your head? Do they ever just, talk to you randomly? In your head? 
Not saying it's a bad thing if they do or don't for you, just wondering. For me personally, they do. 

Comment your response below! I'd love to start a conversation in the comments section! :) 

- The Lost Prince  
  

A Quick Question

Hey y'all, me here. 

I have a question for all of you on this website. It might not make sense, but oh well.

Do your characters ever talk to you? 

Like, do your characters do more in your head than just be in scenes in your head? Do they ever just, talk to you randomly? In your head? 
Not saying it's a bad thing if they do or don't for you, just wondering. For me personally, they do. 

Comment your response below! I'd love to start a conversation in the comments section! :) 

- The Lost Prince  
  

Ill Met

We were ill met by starlight.

Not Ur Fault

I'm sorry, baby. 
I thought I could help you by not being there, but I ended up hurting you instead. 
I know you won't forgive me, and that's alright. 
Forgiveness is a luxury that I haven't been getting too much of lately, anyway. 
I'm sorry, baby. 
It wasn't your fault. 
It took me far too long to realize that. 
Your scars sink deeper than I can even imagine. 
It hurts for you to have me here, doesn't it? 
What if I left? 
Would that make you feel better? 
I'm only making things worse. 
No one wants me here, anyway. 
This world has been too cruel to you.
I could've stopped at least some part of it. 
Oh, don't cry, baby. 
Don't cry.
Your tears are diamonds that I'll never deserve.   
But it's not my right to tell you not to cry.
It's okay.   
Do what you need to do.
Scream, kick, break something.
Hell, you can even hurt something.
If...

POWER.

Well, here we are. 
The gods of America. 
We're young, screwed up, filthy stinking rich, gorgeous, and dumb. 
Nobody can stop us. 
Nobody can tell us what to do.
Bright lights,
Crisp champagne,
Fresh clothes, 
Loose morals, 
All of the control,
None of the care.
It all tends my throne.
It's a never-ending rush of ecstasy, 
I take it in the morning with my orange juice.
My wants being satisfied is the need of everyone around me. 
Whatever old fool who said that money can't solve your problems 
never had the money to simply party it all away...
Dammit, I like it.   
  
    

Six-Word Story

Unsaid

What is left is best unsaid.  

Good Livin'

The whole crew sat lazily in different parts of the living room. We all thought that tonight was going to be a normal Saturday night, except for the fact that Jeremy hadn't come home yet. 
Actually, no. A Saturday night without Jeremy wasn't normal. A Saturday night without any one of the boys wasn't normal.
But we knew that Jeremy would come home at some point, whether it was going to be in five minutes or a couple of hours. So we all sat impatiently, without showing it too obviously to the other boys. It would mess up the whole vibe. The minutes ticked by in silence. Finally, Chance decided that he had enough of waiting silently.
"Hey, guys. Where's Jeremy? We've been waiting for an hour and haven't heard a peep from him." 
"He'll be here soon." I answered him. "I know it." 
"Let's hope so." 
A few more minutes passed before we heard a flurry of door bell...

What If

What if 
i peeled away all your layers 
took off your mask 
peered through the clearest looking glass 
with unclouded eyes
into your soul
would I see anything there? 

Trust.

Trust. 

Just another poesession of mine that you broke like it was nothing. 

Little Fools

"Love is for fools. It's a dangerous game played by silly little dreamers who have too much hope." The old man told me one day at the gloomy pier. "Thankfully, you're not one of those fools. I know you're not." 
He resumed smoking his pipe.
I sat there, snug in my over-sized wool sweater.
I didn't have the heart to tell him, that I, in fact, was actually one of them.     

ANGER.

My fists clench so hard my knuckles turn white
My lips break under the pressure of my teeth 
I get a taste of copper on the tip of my tongue. 
Good. 
My eyes darken
I want to break something
Tear something 
Rip something 
Who will stop me? 
Hurt something
It could be myself
Why not? 
That would be better 
The world could move on, as it always does
While I lock the monster inside of me, thrashing and screaming
As I always do 
Put on a neutral face 
As I always do 
Deny the thoughts in my head 
As I always do 
And let it all sink to the bottom 
deeper
And deeper 
And deeper 
I’m alright, everybody 
I’m alright 

The Battle Within Closed Doors: Part 1 (TW: Abuse)

I step into my apartment, smiling like an idiot, the adrenaline running in me like the blood in my veins. It almost feels like this mood could never disappear.
Until I see him sitting at the dinner table, with only the dim little overhead lamp illuminating his face. I can tell he's been waiting for me to walk in. 
"You're late." his voice is as cold as the look in his eyes. "Where the hell were you?"  
"You know where I was. I texted you after I left work." 
"You didn't ask me if you could go." 
Not this game again. Of all nights, this is when he chooses to be in a bad mood."Oh, I need your permission to go have fun? Sorry, I'll ask next time." 
His eyes darken. I realize that, just for tonight, I should diffuse the situation before it gets worse. "Can we not do this tonight? Please?" He remains unmoved, so I offer a...

Jazz Tunes

Dad presses PLAY on the CD player, grabs his mug of coffee, and sat down next to me. Within a few seconds, I already recognize the singer.   
"Ella Fitzgerald. Excellent choice."
Dad smiles approvingly, seeing his nursing of me with jazz at a young age still shows."Good ear."  
We both sit in a comfortable silence, seeping in the richness of the coffee and the sweet, sweet, sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice. 
"It's been a long time since we've had a night like this, hasn't it?" Dad muses, laying his tired back on the old couch cushions. "Just you, me, a cuppa coffee, and some jazz." 
"Yep." 
    

The Surgery

The surgeon collapsed into a nearby chair, exhausted. He took off his blood-covered plastic gloves, which were bound to his ache-ridden hands with sweat. His assistant slept curled up in a corner, not making a sound. For once, the operating room was dead silent. But it wasn't an unwelcome silence. After performing an 18 hour long surgery, the surgeon began to truly appreciate existing in a room where the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own breathing. The surgeon laid back in his chair, glad that nobody's life was in his hands. Not that he wasn't used to holding other people's lives, otherwise he wouldn't be a surgeon, but doing so for 18 hours really wore him down.

He had done it.

Successfully transplanted a heart, thus saving his patient. 
 
He wanted to hug his assistant, to congratulate her on a successful operation, but he decided it was better for the both of them to...