Absolutely not, I say looking at this prompt of the day, gazing off into the horizon, head stuck in my own thoughts, i got this app for poetry, i say while still writing out this poem, how easy is it, to fit, 500 words, in a poem, maybe 500 lines would be easier, even if i rattle off words, cucumber, antidisestablishmentarianism, i’m, you, but im not you, you are you, and i am i, in a way you, the reader, are my muse, i write not only to improve, but to cater to a nonexistent audience, of two people, i used to hate poetry, groaned when we talked about it, in class, just in order to fit in, everyone else hated poetry, so me too, i love poetry, the words that flow, sweet like honey, thoughts and feelings put into words, it’s beautiful, 500, words, how? you, you, you, you, you, you are, i am so tired, physically right now, long night spent staying up, long day, long, does anyone fully follow these prompts anyways, sticking to only poetry gets hard, my poetry prompts already done before, daily prompts calling for a scene, a story, i cannot give a story, only poetry, spewing my bullshit for all to hear, word 212, not even halfway there, if i copied my entire poem already would anyone care? Absolutely not, I say looking at this prompt of the day, gazing off into the horizon, head stuck in my own thoughts, i got this app for poetry, i say while still writing out this poem, how easy is it, to fit, 500 words, in a poem, maybe 500 lines would be easier, even if i rattle off words, cucumber, antidisestablishmentarianism, i’m, you, but im not you, you are you, and i am i, in a way you, the reader, are my muse, i write not only to improve, but to cater to a nonexistent audience, of two people, i used to hate poetry, groaned when we talked about it, in class, just in order to fit in, everyone else hated poetry, so me too, i love poetry, the words that flow, sweet like honey, thoughts and feelings put into words, it’s beautiful, 500, words, how? you, you, you, you, you, you are, i am so tired, physically right now, long night spent staying up, long day, long, does anyone fully follow these prompts anyways, sticking to only poetry gets hard, my poetry prompts already done before, daily prompts calling for a scene, a story, i cannot give a story, only poetry, spewing my bullshit for all to hear, word 212, not even halfway there, if i copied my entire poem already would anyone care? and did you care? did you read the entire poem again, looking for inconsistencies, changes in words, or did you skip past it until, something new, honestly thats strange, how writing, this entire thing, and someone reading this, a being with their own thoughts, feelings, sounds like propaganda to me
The walk was long and unending, It was all we could do to get away from the impending, I held onto my daughters hand, my wife beside her in command, paranoid thoughts fermenting,
the tunnel stretched out un-ending,
we couldn’t keep pretending,
we would die here away from the mainland,
our skeletons holding each other in the sand,
our souls left unbending.
10, We learned it first on the news last week, 9, The moon was incoming towards Earth, 8, We thought it was a joke, 7, stores shut down, 6, people visited their families for the last time, 5, Birds stopped singing their song 4, The moon took up the entire sky, 3, bathing even night in light to look like day, 2, I closed my eyes and held my children close, 1, whispering my love to them, 0.
She tasted like apple cider, smelled like cinnamon and campfire smoke, words warm and cold she spoke, but i knew i could never provide her, for she moved to much like a spider, red, oranges and yellows she wore as a cloak, colors so bright and beautiful i could choke listening to the birds as i lay beside her.
though autumn never lasted long, getting too cold far too fast, leaving me alone to listen to the birdsong.
her warmth left in that month, leaving me hurt just as much, even then i longed for her touch.
She came to me first in a dream, her words smooth like honey, sweet like cream, gracing the earth with weather only sunny.
She was everything I need, warmth always around her, taking care of even the nastiest of weeds, she was my summer.
But summer ended, and with it she went, the cold of autumn suspended, leaving me to torment.
winter came and along it a revelation, my summer was nothing but a fabrication.
he’s looking at me again, beady eyes too big for his long face, small flat nose, bright silver hair, i sit seated in his class everyday, shivers creep up my spine, a tingling on the back of my neck, sharp cold of fear when he walks past, what is he, for certainly the new science teacher isn’t human, bags under my eyes, late nights spent researching the supernatural, werewolves, vampires, elves, nothing seems to fit, he talks of science as if its foreign to him, stuttering over basic words, as if he just learned the language, who is he? what is he? my mother tells me not to stare, not to dig deep into the new person in our small town, she tells me to be nice to him, but how can I when he looks so different from me, from my friends, from my family, however, i turned to social media for my answers, bad idea, maybe this man is just normal, the internet tells me im an asshole, but I know there’s something more to my science teacher, my mother tells me to stop digging, it’ll only get me in trouble, i should’ve listened to her, now i’m millions of lightyears away, on Mr. Morrison’s spaceship.
