If i were to stand upside down on the bottom of the earth and be able to see through it to the top of the earth to someone else standing there. From what angle do i see them. Am i the one the wrong way around or are they upside down upon on the ground.
What way for me would the sun rise and set and for them would it be different yet. This is the point i try to make as the sun dipped down underneath my feet, the moon tipping over my head. Im spinning… Spinning… Spinning… Yet i stand still.
Meaningless. These letters all jumbled up in a trillion different ways but they already exist as words in every language. Why do I want a word? I just do. It’s this unjustifiable need to be special and for people to know me and to use something of my own creation and regard it as something only smart people will be able to comprehend. I want people to wonder ‘How do you think they came up with this word?’. I want people to try and come up with their own word and realise how long it took me to find a combination of letter and a meaning. A meaning for me. For my life, what would I be if I don’t try I’d I don’t desperately desire to be loved and admired. If I didn’t spend countless hours days weeks months trying to find something that can give me purpose. In the end it’s all a waste of time because no one will pick up the dictionary and wonder ‘Who made that word and why did they give it that meaning?’ But still i sit, tapping my pen on the piles of paper covered in crossed out letters p..pe..pf..pg..ph..
They left all they carried with me Every bag, every thought Cant turn them away They’re too distraught
Thoughts deep as the pile That lay at my feet Expect me to take them Their burdens I greet
Welcome them in Though I don’t have room No room in my house Mind full of their thoughts, not mine.
(Not sure this even fits the prompt but takes inspiration from it at least)
Roses are red Violets are blue
The rest of this poem is left up to you
I find this silly A poem must have an end Was the poet not smart enough This shouldn’t offend
But I feel as if someone with imagination Should at least be able to Finnish their creation In fact this imagery isn’t that good As flowers are more unique This should be understood
Roses can be pink, orange or red And violets are violet as in the names said Don’t Finnish this poem write your own instead And please learn the colours of flowers aswell
For the past fifteen minutes and thirty two seconds I have been rewriting a message to my friend who, ten hours, forty nine minutes ago told me she was lost. Yes, I could have replied sooner. No, I was not busy I was watching tv and sleeping.
I have considered possibly not even replying to her text as she may have forgotten about it anyway. I had redrafted it enough times to find myself lost in trying to find the correct way to word what I want to say. I don’t know what I want to say at all.
“What do you mean?” “Want to talk about it?” “What made you feel lost?” “What happened?” “Are you alright?” “Did you tell your therapist about it?” “Is it because of the exams?” “Me too.”
These are my candidates. The last one is self cantered.
I think it would be good to have a tv channel that could tell me every possible reply to ‘I’m lost’ right now. So I walk to my living room, fall down onto the couch and flick through a few channels. Obviously I’m aware that this show does not exist so I pause on the news hoping that someone in the world has made a major breakthrough and created a book of replies to any possible scenario.
The news replies to my current scenario exactly the way I wanted it to, but in slightly the wrong context.
“Teen girl by the name of Sarah Dunn reported missing by parents Henry and Faith Dunn. The worried parents claim that daughter Sarah left their family home in Southwest California at quarter to nine Monday evening and hasn’t been seen since. If anyone has heard news of seventeen year old Sarah we urge you to contact the police immediately. That’s the two o’clock news. I’m Kate Peterson. “
Now I find myself to be sitting up looking at what may just have been her last text.
“I’m lost. “
This is a test of love. Whether you sacrifice or hand yourself over you will know how much they cry for you. How much they wanted to let you die.
But will you die? Or where do you go? That is something they will never know because they will never see you again. It’s their fault. They could have sacrificed themselves for you. But they didn’t. If they wanted to they would have. You just aren’t worthy enough of that.
Some of the choices will be easy some will be truly the choice of a lifetime. There’s no taking it back.
I just wonder if they will love you enough to keep you, maybe not, but who knows where you will go if they don’t want you anymore. You may not live to tell the tale.
I imagined that if there were possibly other worlds in different universes, that maybe one would be entirely different from the place in which I live.
This was not what I expected.
This place is..well I’m not quite sure yet. I haven’t found the perfect words to describe it, but I do know for fact: This. Is. Not. My. Home. I’m not sure if it is good enough to be anyones home.
The people here wear nearly nothing and there are strange tall castles, nothing like the ones I’m used to. These castles have moving colours and lights on them. They are tall and dark. There aren’t any gardens or stairways in front of them.
I tried to talk to a few of the people but they ignored me and walked away. I couldn’t find my maids or any butlers. I did see a fine lady in a mauve gown, however when I attempted to speak to her she simply smiled and asked me who I was ‘cosplaying’? I would say I know about everything that anyone could possibly need to know about running a kingdom, but I do not know what that means. I must ask one of my maids the meaning of such a strange word.
After this I then attempted to fetch a strangely dressed footman (who was standing at the edge of a path looking at a small glowing lantern thing) to get me a carriage, yet he simply pushed me away and walked off with a horrid look set upon his face.
I must admit this place feels quite like a dream and I don’t particularly like it. It’s rather..odd.