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I don’t know my right from my left,
And tomorrow is the first day
Of the rest of my life
Is what everyone tells me.

Are they living in a separate reality than I?
Or are they all just pretending
That the sky isn’t overcast,
And the sun shines brightly?

My heart has a migraine,
And it’s been this way since yesterday:
The last day of the beginning
Of my life.

The forecast tells that the weather
Will remain unchanging
Until I finally get out of bed,
But I can’t bear to see another wasted day.

My heart has a migraine,
And now I might know my right from my left,
But time remains restless,
While I continue letting drain the hourglass—

Will I ever get out of bed?
26 lines, 256 days left.
It’s not what you deserve
Hardly even anything at all
But I can’t bear to look at another missed day
3 lines, 257 days left.
I miss your eyes on me,
And I can’t sleep,
Your voice in my head,
Unable to think,
The mist and the tears,
I can’t decipher between;
And another glass sits empty.

I’m blank of meaning
Without any ideas to say,
Just tell me if I’ve been pushed
From your mind already
Because the silence
Has taken me to an asylum,

And when I yell to the breeze against my face
Barely alive and disregarding speed limits,
I wonder if the lyrics I speak
Tear you to pieces
As they do me,
Since they speak truth better than my own.

When did you forget me?
It’s degrading to only know
By feeling,
And not by telling.
I can taste the sulfur
In the air tonight.

Why didn’t you warn me?
30 lines, 258 days left.
Stripped of rhymes
Stripped of bars
Maintaining only the most basic structure
Maybe this isn’t poetry
But it is creative writing
And I hope you find it illuminating
And thought-provoking.

The people of Oz had their wizard. A legend being capable of great feats. One could only speak to him in his chamber. His mythos came from those he amazed, who would embellish their descriptions of his power so much, that he had to hide away to protect the truth of his abilities or lack thereof. This conundrum does not exist exclusively in fiction. In history, when humankind’s logic was not as keen to such deceptions, many times power was asserted. A small group hides themselves in a cave, coming out to give commands and create rules for people who believed lies. People that believed inside the cave were mystical objects, or deities themselves that granted the small group with wisdom or power to bless efforts and curse dissent. By asserting that the contents of the cave would cause immediate death for those not chosen to see them, they kept their power secure. Such tricks only last as long as people’s fear of an unknown power outweigh their dissatisfaction with their treatment and position as slaves, or their skepticism.

Now today, the ultimate wizard exists. All knowing, all powerful, the definition of goodness, so no order or action can be called into question on the basis of ethics. Invisible to all, except when they used to appear to people all the time before cameras and in a time of legends. Speaking with a voice you hear inside yourself. No one can call into question what you heard, because you’re the only one who heard it, and since you heard it from the all-knowing definition of goodness super wizard, others who believe must follow as if the words did come from such a being, not a mere man. It’s an old trick, but quite effective.
33 lines, 259 days left.
You are the moon in my sky
A constant reminder
Of what I couldn’t possibly have
Without risking everything.
You make me want to change
As my tides abide by your influence,
But you come closer
And push away just as easy,
Just as often.

I want you to stay,
For I am not the one keeping you there,
I’m a mere light on the side of the road,
And tell me, my dear,
How can a streetlight illuminate the moon?
But I can’t help myself from staring
When you show yourself
No matter how close to
Or far away,
A smile takes over my face.

I wish to hold you,
And have you by my side,
Even if it brings chaos and destruction.
I’m drawn to you like gravity
So fly out of reach,
And stop this dance you have with me,
Or give me a chance,
And allow me to show you
What it means
To be infinite.
32 lines, 260 days left.
I now see
I've traded in the body
Of a brilliant and limitless child
For one of another corporate servant
Who needs your own will
When you can make yourself
So marketable
7 lines, 261 days left.
It’s again that time of day
To sit staring
At the blank page
That tempts me to resign
Conceed my opinion and drive
To continue this daily stride
But i get over it
And i press the keyes
And write untill im all used up
And hav e no life left to spend

It’s all dread and drudgery
Life is
The highlights only shine so bright
Because there’s n o competition
Around them to outshinte
I can feel myself change
With every steting sun
For each one
Encompasses me in a tidal wave

Im’ urning into somthing,
Someone i am not
Can you sense it too?
Or have you alread y forgotten
That the winter breeze has departed,
And the lihtg push against you
Is my exhale,
Chilling you to your bones
When did I become so cruel?
30 lines, 262 days left.
Writing has so many advantages
But non e tht I take for granted more
Than the ability to change what’s been writtn
The backspace on a keyboard
The eraser of a pencil
But life is a story written in pen
No crossing out words or paragraphs
And no tearing out pages so they can be written again
It j only continues to be written
Moving forward
With every mistake and flaw
Immortalized in a way more permanent
Than ink on a page could ever be
And so I wrote this as ametaphor
As a challenge to do thinkgs right the first time
But even if I think twice, write once
Shaky hands miss keys
And I see better pasts unchangeable once
I ma am is in the future
I am in the future
Such is life
21 lines, 263 days left.
I’m counting the hints I’ve missed
Over again on my fingers
And in my head,
Making excuse after excuse
To give doubt the benefit,
But this smile
Has taken its toll
On my lips
And my eyes
After three nights
Grow a shade beneath them
To define restless.

I can't pretend much longer,
And I keep thinking
Of all the things I should have said,
And what I should have refrained from,
But I can tell by the silence
That soon the hint will be so obvious,
That I couldn't possibly mistake it.

I get star-struck too fast,
Lost in awe
Before the supernova takes life
From my world once again;
I'm jealous of those you'll see instead—
I'm jealous of the silence they spend
Lost in your eyes
While I'm stuck with the quiet,
Holding the pillow next to me
As though it could feel
This soft, slow caress;

Am I already dead?
34 lines, 264 days left.
That feeling of looking in the mirror
And wanting to go further
It's a special type of being in the zone
The opposite of zen
Pure adrenaline
The urge to find a body's limits
And then build the strength to go past them

I've forged a mighty body
Large and strong
And why?
So no groceries will ever make me take a second trip
No boxes are too heavy to lift
No dense trash bags from a compactor
Will ever be safe from being tossed in the garbage
No pickle jars will be impossible to open
And when I carry my sleepy girlfriend to her bed
I feel like a ******* superhero
19 lines, 265 days left.
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