With my busy, busy schedule I’ve been incredibly swamped But I’m so excited to announce This is my 100th day of Daily Prompt!

So I don my celebratory quill I say, a toast to commitment! A toast to passion and cheer With a brain as my only equipment I toast to more writing this year!

I couldn’t have done it without you all Your support and feedback are great Reading your work inspires me To take risks and to write another day

The time has passed so quickly Just yesterday did I start? But I find I am so fortunate To be part of a community so full of heart Of fellow authors, writers, poets

She couldn’t remember a time When time was hers. Duty, guilt, and passivity- The trifecta of moment-stealers, Drained the hours from her days. The lovely distractions of marriage and children made her forget What she used to want. And she lived as the years passed by- It’s not that she didn’t. But she gifted the hours to those she loved Doing things she didn’t love. She abided the days pursuing their dreams, while hers inhabited the dusty shelves of a different time. And so the years had gone, and children had gone, and her will gone. And though people innocently still marked her hours as theirs, She remembered one time When she was little And hours didn’t matter, And minutes were for joy. And the best years were before her. And she took time back.

Here’s the story of a girl, Who once was dead inside. A girl with shattered dreams, No dignity; No pride.

Dark brown Liquid in a spoon, The devil in disguise. He swept her off her feet, Then left her there to die.

But little did the devil know, This girl was not a coward. She fought with all her fucking mite, Till she won back her power.

Through pain and struggle, She found her way. To a brighter dawn, A brand new day.

So don’t let the devil tell you lies, Orblind you from the truth. Cuz today she stands before you, As living, breathing proof. That hope is never lost, And dreams do, in fact, come true.

Listen closely , To the story I’ve told. The story of a girl, Who refused to be controlled. Her story could be yours someday, You never know what the future holds.

I know because I’ve lived her life. And her scars are mine to keep. Her story is my story, Because this girl is me.

I know I’m shit at everything And I can’t do anything right But when I’m not stuck up in my mind Damn, I really know how to write Forget my pain and countless strifes When I pick up the pen, everything subsides I’ll build a world or tell a tale When the words start to whizz, you really can’t tell When I twist my words to sow a seed I can leave you spellbound as you read Magic really is nothing new, Just read my poems, see what I do

Damn I’m feeling like Shakespeare wrote this No one knows me but I feel like an S-tier poet I’ll be glad if a couple people read this poem Though they’ll probably think I’m high or sumn I guess I am if you see it that way Damn I’m feeling overpowered today Like if I posted this now someone would actually care It’s just a thought, I know But the thought won’t clear Damn, lemme shut up Before I say something weird

Sometimes I think About the things I wish I’d already achieved Having a house Renting or owning I was never picky But I know that’s a reality That will never come Not in our economy. Having a successful career Or at least doing a job I liked But I have never experienced either Working to simply get by Never anything to be passionate about. Having a bank account full of savings Thousands on retainer Just in case I lost my job again Like when the first pandemic happened But it is a struggle to simply survive Let alone try and save. Having that one person to come home to Who always made me feel safe Who I could trust everything with But after years of closing my heart off I don’t know how to be that vulnerable. It’s hard not to look around And compare myself to others But deep down I wonder If maybe everyone else Feels the same way too

You’ve been my best friend. For years now. I don’t know how you put up with me, But I’m so glad I am you have kept me.

My mind loves you from everything From your flaws to what I awe. I love you Parvina.

Pay attention! You never listen. Did I mention? My frustration with your penchant for woolgathering? It isn't flattering It’s battering the limits of my patience You need to be a patient See a pro and grow your insight gain control of this mind before time (that thing you can’t see) steals it amid the confusion Oh, you did? And got rid of the noise? That’s a very small pill. Are you sure it will work? Wonders, you say? All day? This is great news! Watch the booze.

The Earth was scrubbed clean this morning, The air still electric from the sudden rush of water. We've forgotten how the air cools so quickly on our skin. This morning, I breathed it in. I had other choices. I could've left quicker, Could have spent eternal minutes on a packed highway. I could've thought about work, Worried about the threadbare edges of my love, Trembled at the possibility of so much heat and so little water. But I stood very still, As the wind made mischief with my hair, And breathed.

The time passing so quickly, I am not finished, but I’m happy. My book has reached a large number, A number of pages, And even though I’m young, I feel more crazy.

One day I will achieve something Something I’m proud of I won’t have that feeling of relief Or ok, but I could have done it better Or earlier Or differently No ‘I can’t celebrate this now’ Or ‘oh that - that’s a work in progress’ But something that will allow me To feel unashamedly proud That I fearlessly broadcast aloud

One day soon That’s my commitment to me