SB's Draft Piles
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Idle scribbles, flash of images, dash of thoughts. Like small sweets or treats from granny~ Group rules: https://t.me/writing_draftpiles/880 Cross-promo: https://t.me/writing_draftpiles/753 Please credit me if you're sharing my work :3
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| Date | Subscriber Growth | Mentions | Channels | |
| 06 October | 0 | |||
| 05 October | 0 | |||
| 04 October | +3 | |||
| 03 October | +1 | |||
| 02 October | +1 | |||
| 01 October | +2 |
Channel Posts
Forget everything;
and remember them again.
Fall in love.
Fall out of love.
Reality shifted;
so did you.
Just don't deny
the sins you've unleashed.
"... I concede."
#random #draft
| 2 | By God, you
have the softest,
most graceful heart
I ever knew.
You would have tried to understand
anyone and everyone;
would have loved to comfort
any pain and loneliness;
you wanted, always,
to embrace the world.
That's why I
want to bludgeon people.
This world has never been
graceful enough
to embrace someone
as soft and innocent as you.
#verse #draft (a kind of continuation from the last post) | 307 |
| 3 |  #journal (2026_3). Social anxiety, and Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD) | 274 |
| 4 | #commentary
But it's all that matters to me right now.
the first stanza inspired from MISSIO's "Sing To Me" | 277 |
| 5 | "Pray for me,"
I ask of them, "'Cause I'm not
doing well."
And in truthfulness
neither do they.
But they take my hand,
caress my face,
and promise me.
"I will. I'll pray for you—
for us."
That gentle determination
makes my eyes water.
And I remember my sister,
the burnt black charcoal
of apathy in her eyes.
I think to myself now:
there is a price, after all,
to keep this fire burning.
#draft (27.08.2026) | 269 |
| 6 | Go on, shoot for the stars.
Burn to propel yourself,
Pour your blood as gasoline,
So that when we
Are all shriveled, drained,
We'll have no regret—
Because in this world,
We are but cattles
To the vampiric lords
And we'll end up drained, either way;
So let's at least burn
In the way of our own choosing.
#random #draft (20.08.2026) | 243 |
| 7 | #commentary Have you heard about us? The buds who are wilting, either quietly or screaming—or have our songs been lost, discarded, and forgotten by the world? | 297 |
| 8 | This truth
is a hard pill to swallow.
I wonder
if I had to take it
when I'm all old and crinkly
would it have been easier?
There is envy
and grief
for being too young
and already too crippled.
I'm not the only one
drowning like this
either.
#random #draft | 277 |
| 9 | #commentary I'm feeling anxious. I need to tell the world I'm still here. Even if I don't know what I'm supposed to do. | 294 |
| 10 | Scream
of a dying flower.
Song
of the lost
and forgotten.
#random #mantra(?) | 276 |
| 11 | (Because now
that I've confessed it;
I'll live
even in my dying.)
#random #draft
(04.07.2026) | 267 |
| 12 | So how did it come to this?
How did I come to think, now,
"It's alright;
I'll learn to accept death
again and again, again.
I'll do it
as many times as it comes."
Why...?
(3/4) | 260 |
| 13 | ... I was jealous
of living people.
Those who are free
to go where they want.
Those who are blessed
with bounty on their plates.
Those who can express
whatever and however they want.
I am jealous.
I'm suffocating;
I'm trapped;
My blessings are counted.
I'm jealous.
(2/4) | 240 |
| 14 | "We are the canary
in the coal mine."
"So tell me, little one,
as you are suffocating,
what would you like to do?"
"Know that you are
just the first among many;
many, that will follow you
into this grave."
"So tell me, little one,
as you are suffocating,
what would you like to do?"
I close my eyes
and start praying.
(1/4) | 211 |
| 15 | This ugly side of me is
a family heirloom.
But it doesn't matter now
where I got it from.
I have to decide
where to keep it,
how to live with it.
And that's
the wretched thing about it.
(Raven, 20.06.2026) | 286 |
| 16 | Who would have thought
to be unseen
is this painful?
Is this why
our oath
sounds thus?
"I bear witness..."
#random #draft (17.06.2026) | 269 |
| 17 | And now I realized:
this fight to understand
my value
has never been
to make me
valuable.
(Because I am,
always have been,
valuable.)
This fight will not
give me
what I deserve
or desire.
This fight has
always been
just the beginning;
and its end
will be
when I end
my betrayers.
#draft (16.06.2026) | 245 |
| 18 | #commentary It's just been in my mind these days. I should be grateful there's food prepared for me. But when it's not appetizing, for one reason or another, should I have just forced myself to eat it?
They say to cook is to love. There are people out there whose love language is cooking for their loved ones. But I have often found it... burdening, in occasions. | 265 |
| 19 | For a while, now, it has been nagging at the border of my mind.
There were food prepared for me. But it has gone cold.
I don't know how to enjoy it well. It should have been a blessing, a generosity.
But before I knew it—
It's become a burden.
How should I express this?
"I appreciate your care,
But I can't eat this anymore"?
What am I supposed to do with this food?
I don't have the heart to throw it away;
I don't know how to eat it without choking;
So will it only stay on my plate, grow mold, rot, and stink?
Then before I know it—
My house will be filled with rot and decay.
#random | 227 |
| 20 | I had a dream, Hell reviewed my case;
"You're better off humans," they said
Cutting off my horns.
But do I, really?
Whenever I walk down the street
Their stare tell me they know
I'm not quite the same.
Wake up, wiping my face,
Head too light, forehead empty.
Now when I get out the door,
I tell myself, time to hide my horns.
Because they know
I ain't no proper demon,
neither I'm a normal human.
Rough #draft | 252 |
