I’ve always wanted to see
the skies of Montana, or even
Wyoming, wherever that is;
can I find it on a map?
I’ll check the forecast,
pack up my medicine and
toothbrush and clothes,
and I’ll just fucking go.
Set out on the highway
With “head west” being
the only thing I know,
a road that may or may not
be lonely, and my cat,
she comes, too.
I’m going to die
if I don’t get away from you.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: Wyoming, forecast, and medicine.
Photo by Neil Wallace on Unsplash
I can’t take this anymore
I’ve said hundreds of times
but now I really mean it.
I can’t take it,
not a minute longer.
We’ve lived a life of
make-believe and never
stopped playing games.
Dress-up, house, pretend.
It really has to end.
I’ve been dancing
around the edges of
my escape route and
now I’m running toward it.
I want to be free
as fast as I can be.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: not a minute longer, make-believe, and dancing.
Photo by Erik Karits on Unsplash
Decades ago,
it’s been decades now,
you and I shared space
in the same place
at the same time
and the fact that
was even possible
feels like magic.
Now all I have are
memories and imaginations,
like the lump of my belly
growing with our baby
and the house we
would have bought together,
the home we would
have made forever.
Remember marching
up the sand dunes to see
the most beautiful sunset
of our entire lives?
Do you remember dancing
at Limelight, utterly high with the
flashing lights and pulsing music,
our sweaty bodies sliding
against each other … Read the rest
If only things
had worked out
the way I’d wished they would
We’d be opening gifts and
taking photos in front of
our first Christmas tree
But now I wish you
weren’t here, and instead
I’m planning my exit strategy.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: if only, dinner, and exit strategy.
Photo by Andrew Abbate on Unsplash
We said it so many times we called it 10%, because it felt like “I love you” was 10% of all we say to each other. Every day, I love you, I love you, I love you, a balm I’ll never grow tired of but, underneath it all, became a noose around your neck. We’ll stick to easy games; no tag, no red rover, no hopscotch, nothing that involves touching or thinking about you. Finger painting, maybe, that’s an activity we can do together now that cuddling and sex are off the table. My best friend has a sex painting. … Read the rest
You are not special. You think I made you my world, but my world is built with words and dreams, and I’m not dreaming about you anymore. Surely this was to be expected after years of swimming in your toxic waters; there should be no surprise. I dreamt you had the face of an angel, the ass of David, and a heart soft enough to feel safe inside. But these dreams turned out to be wishes, there is a difference, and either way, they never come true.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: not what anyone expected, swimming, and David… Read the rest
When you leave we don’t say goodbye anymore. I don’t pause to put down my coffee and stand to get one last hug and kiss from you, I don’t tell you I love you, I don’t walk you to the door so I can shut it quietly behind you. Later, I’m cold as ice and turn my head from you, I don’t want to look at you, especially as we decorate the tree with things you dragged from the basement without me asking. This was going to be our first real Christmas in our home, and now it’s going to … Read the rest
Today, I’m sorry that any of this happened
and if I could, I would take it back
by any means necessary to save my
heart from breaking over you again.
Hearts are supposed to be these strong,
red, hot, beating to keep the body alive
organs, and not what I feel I have in the
middle of my chest, just this melting piece of ice.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: I’m sorry, by any means necessary, and ice.
i want a whole new life,
everything but this.
if you put it all
under the microscope
you wouldn’t see life
you’d see death.
there’s no use for
a risk assessment.
the gambles have
all been bet and
the house already won.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: everything but this, under the microscope, and risk assessment.
