I pull the sheets over my head,
There's darkness around.
And suddenly it feels home.
Darkness perceives of what I've been longing for,
It's where i belong.
Where I'm not fearful.
Where nothing can harm me,
Solely, because I'm the only harm here.
A harm so murk,
That grasps every body it gets close to,
And persecutes it,
To demise.
There's no getting back,
There's no forgetting.
It keeps me awake,
The inquity.
It sweetly toxins me,
And I'm off to a deep sleep.
At whatever time,
I get pulled back;
Im prompted,
Prompted of all the gloaming mystic.
And I'm inescapable,
Of all the despair.
Im excessively unaware
Of all the agony it beholds.
That being,
A reckless pair.
Disheartened,
But faithful.
Accurate,
But flawed.
Hostile
But shambled.
Too much to complicate the shade,
And
Too little to interpret hell.
Yet,
Why?
Does this bring me tranquility?
Why does this bring me back home?

Unpack the worst thing that has ever been said to you, what in their life made them treat you this way? - a prompt given from jillian rabideau's writing live stream

"she's never going to change. she'll never learn"
my mother's eyes on me
stone sea blue-gray and staring right through
i fled round the corner into my room

another round of the same words-the same eyes
the same ways-every goddess ****** day
and that scream
this woman, so hysterical
didn't recognize her child that night
she saw a mirror she couldn't smash

Let's try to craft one poem a day
A month of our thoughts conveyed
Just give it a shot
Why the hell not?
Let our words find their own way

Do you use online prompts?
To create a poetic response,
Sometimes ideas come to me,
Like an interior visionary,
Is that what a muse is to thee?
Or do you use hokey online prompts,
To create your poetic response?

A warm cup of tea and seeing his smile
Perfect ombres and a comfortable couch
A song with a beautiful melody
You may be wondering what these have in common
They're all things that bring me joy

The scent of fresh blueberry muffins
The sunset on a warm summer day
Going to the lake
Clearly my prompt for the day was joy

Knowing someone loves me
Taking the perfect shot, photography of course
A nice warm bath and waking up next to you
All these things seem simple and ordinary
But to me they mean the world, and that's all that matters.

I check the dark halls,
There's no one there,
I pull myself together,
These ghosts are giving me a scare.

They heard my footsteps,
They followed behind me,
My heart pumped faster
As I ran quickly.

I hid in a room,
Which I know they wouldn't find,
But I felt a hand on my shoulder,
I was soon out of my mind.

RUN

Thine hours shed themselves,
Moment upon minutes upon hour
   curtsy to thy shining name,
leaden with embellishments
of snow and americas of golden
tears.
          Stained time, spilt;
to denounce thine image.

i've been lying here for what seems like forever.
eyes shut tight, fists balled, i thought it would go away.
memories of yesterday reappearing behind my eyelids.. sleep was supposed to be my friend.
the one to take away all of my problems and comfort me until i felt myself again.
i suppose sleep failed me too.
it failed to take away the hurt and the pain;
visions of you, wrapped around her like the promise that still envelops my ring finger..
i am afraid.
for i know, if i'm brave enough to peek through my eyelashes,
i would not see you laying there.
this is all your fault.

if i could have one wish, it would be to time travel.
i would go back to that day under that tree..
what kind was it again??
oh yeah, an apple tree.
i can picture all the fallen apples just laying there,
some bruised, some half eaten, others just completely destroyed.
you know, i kind of feel like those apples.
unwanted, damaged.. not really fulfilling my purpose.
somehow i understand.
they too were once picked out among all others,
chosen over every other option
and then suddenly, thrown back.

YOU PICKED ME YOU IDIOT.
YOU CHOSE, ME!

(why was it so easy for you to throw me back)

take a deep breath.
can you feel that?
the warm sun bursting through your window?
you have been given a new kind of warmth.
the spot next to you, the one he once occupied,
is now painted a beautiful yellow,
no trace of grey to be seen.
open your eyes darling,
for today is a new day.
and it's all YOURS.

When he walked into that room, he carried his whole life with him.

There is something.

It all began when the umbilical was cut.

After that conversation, he just wanted to drink and be whole again.

She sighed with pleasure and slipped the bonds of the appropriate.

He was as nervous as a ***** in an earthquake.

A thousand years ago, he would not have made that promise.

Jesus, get that thing out of here!

Life was good; he had just gotten an NSA grant to study the speed of darkness.

Sure, I knew your mother; she was great in bed

Her shoes untouched unmoved
lay carelessly
in the middle of her room
the strings still tied
forever waiting to be
undone and redone
tightly around dainty feet.
a wet shiny black nose
rest atop the left shoe.
peering through the
wide door crack
he raises his golden head
paint splattered with gray
making eye contact
with a sorrowful wine,
questioning.
a moment.
the somber shake of the head
a whimper as he settles his snout
back on the left shoe
waiting…