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IMCQ May 2020
Ash
Last night
I threw
The last
Memory of
You into
The fire.
Another public draft
IMCQ May 2020
The words left unsaid.
Words deep within the hallow.
They smolder with an intense heat.
Demanding change.
Demanding freedom.
Demanding validation.
Its flame tearing into me.
The rasp of its scream deafens all rational thought.
I, the fool, stumble in its direction.
As the words ring aloud, I find myself
Ashen and burned.

* * *

The stillness of your voice.
Unfazed by the violent blaze.
Your expressions permeate like spilling tides.
Granting tranquility.
Granting patience.
Granting pause.
The waves wash over me.
Soothing tones give way to a clear conscience.
You, the faultless, guide the weary.
As you speak, I find myself
In the presence of peace.
Contrast.
Hear me.
Heal me.
IMCQ May 2020
It can be done.
A poem without heartache.
I can fill it with hopefulness and desire.
The void isn't there if I fill it with life.
The rain doesn't fall unless I will it to.
If words can hurt, words can heal.
If I close my eyes I wont see I'm alone.
oops
I'll try again tomorrow.
I've been challenging myself to write at least one poem/short story/script a day during quarantine. This was my tongue-in-cheek response to my best friend, who said to try to write something hopeful and happy for a change.
IMCQ May 2020
A skylight leaves much to be desired.
The stars shine through,
But we are safe.
Protected by these four walls.

Show me the night sky.
I want danger.
I need the reminder.
That I am insignificant.
Unfinished draft. Maybe I'll finish it in the future. Time will tell.
IMCQ May 2020
I've taken your flaws and listed them in my mind.
I've tried to think of every reason not to love you.
The way you hurt yourself and others.
Unapologetic, unapproachable, unassuming.
Ugly inside and out.
The beauty in you is hard to find so you put in on paper.
It'll never be enough.
You're alone for good reason.
If there was good in you once,
It wasn't around for long.
Die already.
Lull
IMCQ Apr 2020
Sometimes it's just a poem.
Words on the page
At times can seem brittle
Other days the ink is
Heavy,
Oppressive,
Demanding.
Not today,
I feel in control.
Sometimes it's just a poem.
All is good
All is calm
For now
IMCQ Apr 2020
When morning comes and I wipe away the tears
From your face, you are alarmed by their existence.

You hurry to the shower, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake.
Symbolic of your desire to shed yesterday's stresses.

You let the water run down your face and think,
I could let it out now.  This is my last chance to cry.

The water runs cold, back to your senses.
Times wasting, places to go, people to see.

You stand in front of your reflection judging.
You lack grace, you lack confidence, fix your posture.

Should I dress to impress, you ask.  Whatever makes you happy.
You dress for comfort, baggy jeans with a shirt and  zip-up hoodie.

Toast with peach jam.  Your favorite.  A balance of sweet and savory.
A glass of water.  Pills on the side.  You need them apparently.

Keys, wallet, phone and you're out the door.  Deep breath.
If it isn't raining, you wish it were.
Good Morning, it's a new day!
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