Writing Prompt

Weight presses down

on my soul

and my bone

I walk alone

potential hurting me

with what could be

they all look to me

i’m shackled

potential just cackles

it’s chained me down

i’m trapped

and they clap

success after success

it just feeds this beast

and they let it feast

now i’m hollow

just soul and bone

as i sit all alone...

oh won’t you compress me

tighten my limbs till they’re on the verge of breaking

while I try not to try not to try

presently absent or absently present

this slippery potential

bottle it up and drink it for dinner

and somebody pour the wine

while his passages — impossibly tender — slip their way past my devices

and caress my core

oh, loosen my world

syllables and suitors...

For the longest time I didn’t know what depression felt like

I mean I’d had my fair share of sad and anxious

But today I just sat there,

Staring into space,

Not thinking,

Not feeling,

Not existing,

Yet the emptiness was infinite

And I didn’t feel sad or hopeless or terrified

But I think the right word is hollow

And I didn’t know what to do with myself

I was scarcely there

I didn’t move, I didn’t...

words

bubble up

like

soda pop...

The body breaks

But the soul is infinite potential

The heart bleeds with pain

But the soul flows with boundless love

The brain tricks and fears

But the soul speaks honestly and safely

The eyes see good and evil

But the soul sees everything as whole and faultless

The body is not holding the soul

But the soul holds the body in its immeasurable potential...

When one’s force of will

compliments preparation,

potential is born...

When I swing back up

Do I end higher than when

I began to fall?...

All flowers have the potential to bloom

Perhaps some more than others

But all have the chance

The potential

To be something more

Than just a plant

Than just a weed

But to bring more beauty

To the world around them

To make someone smile

Lift someone up

Help those in need

The potential resides within all of them

But will they act on it?...

It all started at a dance

Boys and girls

Dancing around

The boys asked for numbers

The girls said yes

Was it all a prank?

It was because you’re pretty

You have to say yes

He thinks you’re cute

Twirl your hair

Spin around

Give him your number

It doesn’t matter if you’re sweet

If you’re mean

Or in between

It’s because you’re pretty

That he wants that number so bad...

With beautiful skies and a slight breeze

The sapling rests upon the hill.

What could be the start of a group of trees

Or just a weed the world will kill.

A potential to be

Or pushed to the mud

A possible key

Or is just a dud

Words could sway the crowd.

Or words that aren’t allowed.

A voice could warm the heart.

Or a voice that’s lost its part.

The plant holds the gene to heal,

R...