Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
POEM STARTER
‘It came to me like snails come to gardens: ready to consume.’
Write a poem that begins with this line.
Writings
It came to me like snails to gardens, Ready to consume. Slowly, deliberately, Darkness filled the room.
Whispers turned to serpents’ hiss, A hollow ache, a chilling dread. The tendrils of despair would kiss, And steal the light from heart and head.
But dawn finds me a gardener now, With gloves of resolve and will. The weeds that choked my spirit down, The creeping shadows stand still.
Each tendril pulled, each bloom I save, A battle fought, a victory won. The light breaks in, a promise brave, My garden bursts towards the sun.
It came to me like snails come to the gardens; Ready to consume A thought I’d been afraid of for so long Threatening to burst out from within Tempting me to take what I thought was my life And flip it upside down Inside out Start it again Consumed by the daydream Of freedom from it all From the expectations drawn up for me Since I was a little girl From the picture I had in my head for so long And mostly, freedom from myself Consumed by the tantalizing thought Of freedom Am I brave enough to step off the ledge Not to fall but to fly Not to fly but to soar
It came to me like snails come to gardens: Ready to consume. All my life I had to be so guarded, Until I finally found you.
You caught my eye from the very start, I was so unprepared, Somehow you got me to hand you my heart, And you proved that you cared.
You never once let me down, You showed me how to trust. Any time you came around, All I could feel was love.
I’m incomplete Now that you’re gone, You’re what I need, At any cost.
It came to me like snails come to gardens: ready to consume. As I start to get my memory back, Something caught my attention and took me off track. As the unknown eats away at me. I do what I need to for my goals to be achieved. I have never had my thoughts be under a trap before and learning to adapt is like learning to read a map. Things don’t feel right like my senses are even touched on. As day 2 comes around I couldn’t sleep as the pain in my head felt like needles and a scalpel operating terribly. The feeling of losing memories and your senses of time and night and day. Life becomes a living nightmare that you can’t escape and only live in a single moment on replay. Till your last day is out like a light without you knowing.
It came to me like snails come to gardens, ready to consume Why didn’t I know before What took me so long I followed you blindly I listened to you Agreed with you Did what you said Whenever But I never got anything in return Nothing Just hurtful comments That broke me down Bit by bit But why did I just realize You were terrible to me I was blinded by disbelief That you would actually leave me From the start But I’ve realized now That I have better friends The best I could ask for And I need them Way more than I ever needed you
It came to me like snails come to gardens:
ready to consume
I could have written it,
That fated love
An infatuation ready to watch my world crumble
Yet I told it to move forward, for it was fate,
Encouraging a painful spiral
that I knew was also destiny
Who could say “No” to the drug that is
love?
The strongest hearts in the world perhaps,
Not mine
My heart collapsed like the trees in the Amazon
Dried up like an delusional oasis
My heart was soft and so open
it was asking to be consumed
An unavoidable spiral.
it came to me like snails to a garden, ready to consume this epiphany like moment i am so likely drawn to the source behind my bones this ever growing greenery fed with forgiving foliage, patience to reset my scenery the dish i put off til the very moon lit the sky now with joy i leap from bed when mornings slowly rise that pet peeve i so willingly and desperately despised no longer a peeve at all now just a part of life the maze unfolds when we mend our grievance, so bothersome when we choose to look over tension in our hindsight, when we choose to water us
It came to me like snails come to gardens: Ready to consume Slow and steady, slimy and insatiable For the longest time I waited Impatient and desperate to be ingested Wanting, needing to be invested in Trying to be ingratiated and all the while Consumed from the inside out Plagued with indignation Starved for an interpretation That could nurture our soil And untangle my roots
It came to me like snails come to gardens: ready to consume, Ooze with slime,
At first, I didn’t notice, But then slowly over time, Clothes became to big, Hip bones stuck out,
But it was my eyes, The dead look, No life in them, It was like I was without a soul,
Trauma is slow, At least for me,
Trauma consumes everything you are, Ripping and tearing, Chewing and munching on body, mind and soul,
Once upon a time, I let trauma consume me whole, Allowed him to win,
But I won’t be plant that allows snails to consume me, Not anymore,
I will be the fall foxglove, Towering over plants, Bright flowers and poisonous to eat, Or poisonous to hurt,
I will never, Let anyone or anything consume me whole again.
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