Writing Prompt

Endless daze, dust and heat bake every inch of my skin. Plants wither, eroded and dried, rain a forgotten hymn. The tides retreat, desolate shores, no encounter to be seen. My circadian rhythm shattered, sleep, a distant, fading dream. The sun, a tyrant, blazing bold, scorches the world in endless day, no trace of darkness, no respite, no shadows left to play.

I will miss your 9:00 p.m. sunsets And reciting sonnets to the moon. She’s such a lover girl With a soft spot for Shakespeare. She is like me, A coal mine canary singing for men to let me die In the noxious fumes of their helium-inflated egos. My flock migrated south for winter Five summers ago And left their nuclear shadows branded into the sky After being consumed by the sun’s feverish beam. I left flowers at summer’s grave But the sun conjured its ghost And left it in limbo.

I was used to the light, but still it felt blinding. Most times, I close my eyes and try to remember what it was like when darkness covered the sky and only the faint light of the moon showed. But it began to get harder to remember the way the darkness rattled my bones sending a shiver through my whole body and the way the softness of the moon light touched my face. The moon shined its light, but it was a light unlike the sun’s. The sun was bright and intense, it filled the whole sky and screamed power. The moon, was soft and gentle, it’s light shined only a small path which barley light up the sky.

The sun’s harsh rays hit my skin the second I stepped outside from my small blue house which lie still at the top of a small hill. Five years ago, the sun and moon stopped orbiting. Why? Scientist have been reaching and testing their craziest theories for years but still haven’t a clue why. I walked along a wide dirt path that lead from my backyard all the way to a tiny creek. The creek water hit a stack of rocks that layed at the bottom with a small slash. On hot days like this, I like to go down to the creek and read whatever book it is that I’ve begun—today was Frankenstein—as a tool small breaks to drift off into a new dream about the moon. Maybe one day, I’ll see it again.

It’s been five years since you’ve seen the moon , five years of never ending sun .

My thoughts secretly resting on a trigger of a gun just for a bit of fun .

The pause before the cause of death , now don’t be silly just take a breath !

Unable to sort through the pain , don’t you think it’s insane ?

People worship the day. Yoga students in acrobatic poses And melanin deficient bikini clad women Toasting their skin Like a steak on the grill

That is, before The Burn I can’t remember the last time we saw the moon It’s been five years And I’m going crazy I need to sleep I have not slept in years I can’t relax my body Because the brightness of the air Just beyond the thin skin Shielding my eyes My curtain Is constantly being singed Penetrated With the unapologetic liquid volcanic ire

How will I know I have died? There is no sunset No waves to crash upon the shore To mark the renewal And promise of a fresh start Suspended like grapes in jelllo

It is a never ending torment, A punishment, but for what? It is day, But never night. My eyes yearn for a break from the light. Never have I wished for darkness, Yet this retribution has pushed me too far. In this perpetual daylight, I find solace in the shadows. For that is the only way I can maintain my prudence. And hope to not stumble off too far.

It’s been five years since you have seen the moon, five years of never ending sun. Been waiting for you all my nights I know you see me in the moonlight while you’re too busy running to the sunlight. 2000 nights without you Another plenty thousand with sun. You’re more predictable than the moon phases Every night Every day It feels more like a light year. You promised, “I’ll be back.”, “I’ll be here all night.” It’s been five years since you’ve seen the moon, Five years of never ending sun

Now I, solomnly sat upon this lifted ray of light the ants accept me now as never before steering clear from my body as to not shake me they know i don’t allign, they sense my specialties shine

cross roads and dark matter i never crossed that highway so tell me why i mustn’t die. uncle up there upon your impish cloud tell me.

if the day must never end, why can’t i chase the sun? i see my legs are but pale as too my mind is frail but i beg, as i shan’t inquire

uncle within all wind, won’t you whisk me thick, white and translucent, sire? you gave me your number but refuse to speak, if at all; For my certainty in your glory. And then beat my eggs one by one, a son, yours, is undone - wrapped then in foxtail-wire and drenched. you scored my cheek with your psalm but the heavens vaporised down onto him, you’re mist.

how do you hear us and insist we wouldn’t hound we are burning from beneath because of you’re becoming. Alas comrades, we do not give in to the heat he who has heed the fierce hoard once shall rise, climbing heat, still, for he is asleep now, in our magma crust.

I hadn’t seen the moon since the day we came upon the creatures living on it. They had already terrorized our ancestors and us for that matter. But we had found a way to save ourselves. But this is what the invaders could never understand. They couldn’t comprehend why we wanted so badly to live. Why we wanted to be awake. They treasured the silence. We were like nails on a chalkboard to them. So they turned our moon away. But to us, who had touched the moons surface, who had bounced on it, the moon would always belong to us. Our small world, our satellite. We longed to gaze upon it again, but still, the invaders could never claim it.

I’m burning Hurting Crying without tears

I’m longing Wishing As the bright star sears

Memory holds an image so dear Each day it becomes a little less clear

It’s glowing Gleaming Softly in the sky

It’s calling Whispering Where was goodbye?