It’s over, I say.
Fast forward a few weeks later:
yeah, not quite.
We didn’t break up.
We were just cleaning up
the most recent mess.
Today’s poetry prompt words were: fast forward, not quite, and cleaning up.
Photo by Todd Mittens on Unsplash
Do you spend more time thinking about the future or the past? Why?
Be here now.
That’s a thing, right?
I feel like I spend half my time in the past and half in the future, and honestly don’t enjoy the present moments as much as I should.
But I worry about the future constantly. I worry about not being able to afford things, specifically, and specifically my rent.
Being that I work at a place that has a food pantry, I see and hear about a lot of homeless people, and I am starting to consider being homeless one … Read the rest
As the dust settled, she looked around the ruined room.
The staircase had fallen and lay in a wooden heap, trapping her inside the basement.
After all of the noise and chaos she could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Now, all she had to do was wait to be rescued.
She stared up at the little window near the basement ceiling, her only source of light for the last five years.
It had taken her that long to make it, but she knew how to get things to explode.
And the man who took her lay underneath the stairs.… Read the rest
What makes you feel nostalgic?
It’s a new year tomorrow.
It used to be such a big deal to me, celebrating the new year, but now it doesn’t matter at all, it’s just another day, and a way of marking time.
I’d like tomorrow, my first day of the new year, not to be one of reflection and waxing nostalgic over anything.
I am laser focused on my future and what I am going to do to make it better, and make it on my own.
Life really throws the shit at you sometimes, huh? I didn’t expect that during … Read the rest
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
I wanted to be a part of your family at the Fourth of July picnic that’s crazy like a circus, at your sister’s table on holidays, by your side on Christmas morning. I had dreams of all of these things in my life, and now I look past tomorrow and see nothing but darkness. I’m spaced out in shock, still not wanting to accept it’s over, regarding re-entry into real life as an assault, because how do I live without you? How I go days without talking to you? I won’t be going to your niece’s wedding next year. I … Read the rest
When are you most happy?
A month ago I would have told you I was most happy cuddled in bed with my boyfriend, no clothes, skin on skin, arms and legs wrapped around each other and as close as we could physically be.
But we are done with our relationship now.
I am done with it. I don’t care whether he wants to “keep working on things”.
I don’t want to keep working on things, and that’s a good enough reason to let go and let it be over.
Is my heart broken? Yeah. I woke up this morning … Read the rest
I should have said goodbye years ago, the first time you wanted to, the second time, the tenth. But I wasn’t the only one saying let’s give it one more chance, I wasn’t the only one holding on. I wake up tired every morning, crying alone in bed, looking at the space you took up and picturing you there welcoming me into your waiting arms. I cry because I am starved for touch. I cry because of you. The line between me handling it and having a breakdown is paper thin. I’ve been holding myself together with scotch tape … Read the rest
